A Will To Live
by Wyvern03
Summary: Something in Harry Potter changed that night at Godric's Hallow. Something that is beautiful yet ugly. Safe yet dangerous. Even the great wizard Albus Dumbledore doesn't know what to make of it. Harry strives to find out what exactly happened that night. However, he soon comes to realize that ignorance may sometimes be bliss. Especially in this particular case. (AU)
1. I - Prologue

_**A revamp of A Will To Live  
**_

_**Enjoy!**_

* * *

_July 31__st__, 1981_

At 9:00 P.M., Hadrian "Harry" James Potter didn't know what was going on. Sure, he knew the gist of it. A Dark Lord forced his family into hiding, His parents out with some order of people while his grandparents, in his case supervised, and in his brother's babysat.

Within the next minute, he was quickly ushered into his brother's nursery by Dorea Potter nee Black, his grandmother, whilst under the withering spell-fire being traded by Charlus Potter, his grandfather, and a group of people that apparently ate death.

He didn't see much of the fight, nor did he _know_ much about the fight, but he did know that his grandfather was some mage if he could fully contend with eight adult wizards that were seeking to kill him.

For approximately three minutes, Harry was hunkered in his brother's nursery, standing vigil over the crib attempting to calm the crying Charles "Charlie" Evan Potter, when he heard a resounding explosion, a scream that sounded distinctly like his grandmother's and then followed by another explosion.

It was two minutes later when he didn't hear the sound of spell-fire. Harry had turned to fully face the door when it opened at exactly 9:07 P.M. where a tall man with black locks and red, serpentine eyes revealed himself.

Whereas Charles Potter could only remember a distinct hiss from the infamous night, Hadrian Potter heard a deep chuckle reverberate throughout the room. He remembered it chilling his bones and causing the hairs on his body to stand in alert.

It was at 9:08 P.M. when the red-eyed man lashed out and backhanded the older Potter brother onto the floor with the following motion being the drawing of a stick pointed at baby Charles, a sickly, emerald light at the tip.

Despite all attempts by Albus Dumbledore, a famed leader of the Light, and Charms Master and prodigy that was Lily Potter nee Evans, not even the obtaining of a memory from either of the boys could determine what happened after that point.

The only thing that could be agreed on was that at approximately 9:09 P.M. on Halloween night (or Samhain for those of the more traditional and magical of the populous) of the year 1981 at Godric's Hollow, the Dark Lord was defeated.

What remained of the Dark Lord was a smoking heap of black robes and a splintered wand.

Hadrian Potter suffering from magical exhaustion from the ordeal and Charles Potter knocked unconscious with a distinct, bleeding lightning bolt cut adorning his forehead.

Charlus and Dorea Potter as well as several members of the terrorist group known as the Death Eaters lay dead in and around the supposed safehouse.

It was at 9:13 PM on the same night where Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, proclaimed Charles Potter as the Boy-Who-Lived.

It was at 9:13 PM on the same night where Fate threw a pair of dice and allowed Chance to play.

It was at 9:13 PM on the same night where the future of the magical world would forever be changed.

* * *

_July 31__st__, 1985_

"Come on!" A man with tousled raven hair and spectacles with brown eyes shouted over the commotion that was the dinner table. "Blow out the candles already!"

"Patience, James!" A woman with wavy and fiery red hair and distinct shining emerald eyes, replied in a scolding voice. The smirk on her lips betrayed her annoyance, though.

A shaggy haired man with a beard to match and grim brown robes and easy-going smile almost fumbled on the camera where he was delegated to take the picture was exclaiming his annoyance loudly however and did so with a grand gesture of the hands he lifted into the air. "Oh come off it, Sirius. It's the kid's birthday!" A pale faced man with deranged robes that looked incredibly worn out, if the various patchwork and griminess it had gave an. The sullen man was smiling, happily though as he watched the two parents fuss over their child.

"Remus is right! You can't rush perfection!" Elder hands clasped on one of Remus' shoulders. The sullen man smiled good-naturally at the man above him. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled over his half-moon glasses in delight as he examined the three people. The Weasley's were due any minute now as well as the Longbottoms.

From a distant corner though, at the other side of the room, in fact. A pair of calculating emerald eyes analyzed the exchange. Not with happiness nor coldness. Nor any emotion, really. Just a mild aloofness at the event. Harry could not understand the effort they went through in organizing his brother's party.

He meant that in the most respectful way possible, considering they were still technically in hiding. He didn't care that they didn't throw a party for him, the excuse being that it would be drawing to much attention to them should they do so. To him a birthday was just that. A birthday. A commemoration to one's age may have appealed to some people but certainly not to him. Harry just didn't see the justification of counting the years when they would go by regardless if one paid it any attention or not.

Of course, if he voiced that he would probably be forced to have a party by his parents. He just hoped they wouldn't come two days from now, the particular excuse of _'still in hiding' _seemed to have run its course.

Granted that was just him. He idly wondered if others thought as he did as he moved his eyes back to the book in his hand.

Dumbledore probably didn't, he was what a hundred plus years of age? Didn't look any closer to keeling over. Harry would be highly surprised if he did have parties for his age. Then again, he was probably breaking modern records for his advanced age so the wizened, if a bit eccentric (in Harry's opinion), old man probably did.

A raspberry blow signaled his brother's attempts at blowing the five candles out and Hadrian had to bite back the disgust before it showed on his face. _I guess I'm skipping on dessert for tonight._

Having had enough of the blatant disregard for health, he silently stood while closing his book and made his way to his room. That was before getting almost run over by the Weasley Clan. A young boy of about five shoulder checked him and, as a result the Weasley was sent sprawling across the floor. The red haired boy clearly paid it no mind as he merely shook the daze away and kept going. Two older boys, the twins Fred and George were casually passing him by and by instinct made Hadrian check his pocket for any loss of the galleon given to him by Sirius as a gift.

The mischievous glint in their eyes didn't win them any favors either.

Hadrian quickly went up the stairs before he got stampeded by the rest of the mob.

After closing the door behind him, he set the book down on the small bookcase on the far wall and laid on the bed staring at the ceiling.

A knock was quickly heard at his door and a mumbled "Come in." was uttered by the eight year old boy.

His mother was holding a slice of the infected cake in one hand that was stabbed through with a fork. "Would you like some cake?" She asked.

At the expected blank expression, she nodded and regarded her son for a moment. "Now I know you don't like parties." _Or any social gathering really. _Lily added mentally. "But you should really come down and socialize."

"They're not here for me." Harry stated simply. It wasn't said with any scorn nor malice at all. Just mere truth.

Those five words did cut Lily deeply though as she set the cake down on the nightstand next to the bed before sitting at the foot of it. No kid should display that much lack of emotion. She remembered the lively four year old that plagued their home before they went into and during the duration of the war.

On how he would be laughing jovially alongside James as he transfigured objects for the amusement of their firstborn or how Harry would stare wide-eyed and full of amazement when she herself would perform her charm work with nary a thought even though they were so simply and basic.

After it though, the whole Voldemort incident that is, Hadrian had changed drastically and as much as Hadrian denied it and how much she and Dumbledore confirmed it, Lily knew her son was hiding something from that night.

It wasn't possible. It _couldn't _be possible but something tugged at her naval and her instincts screamed to figure it out. Lily suppressed the urge to question him though. He may have given them permission to check his mind, they acted on it but nothing after that emerald light of the killing curse ever amounted to anything but darkness, he would always shut down and lock himself away in his room where she would find him simply staring at the walls around him.

She rested a hand on his leg for a moment before standing.

Hadrian watched her leave and take the infected cake with her.

* * *

_September 2__nd__, 1988_

Harry stared into the entrance of the shop of the world-renowned Ollivander's shop with James and Lily at his side. The streets of Diagon Alley seemed desolate. Harry figured it was because the craze of newly minted eleven years olds' being shipped off to Hogwarts had died down significantly.

Though technically, the eldest Potter son was eleven. His birthday being the day after enrollment seemed to bother his parents the most. They had attempted to get him enrolled for this year and granted, he would've wanted nothing more for his birthday.

James and Lily were quite irate when the Headmaster, or rather the Board of Governors, had dissuaded such a notion that he be enrolled.

Harry was still confused on who to blame there. James and Lily had specifically said it was the Board of Governors on plenty of occasions. Though they ranted as well that it was specifically Dumbledore who had rejected the request.

Though Hadrian didn't mind. Of course, he was a little put out by having to wait a whole year just because his birthday was a day after the fact of departure. He figured he would just get a headstart on all of this years materials a year early. A little solitary, if supervised, study always soothed his mind and negated or rather outweighed any forced socialization.

Back to the matter at hand, however, no one seemed eager to step foot inside the renowned wand maker's shop even though that was basically the reason for this whole trip.

"Well, uh Harry." James started though none still seemed to have gathered the courage to go in the shop. "I know we discussed this. At length even. But are you sure you want to go in there alone?"

There was a hesitant nod from the new eleven year old.

"Are sure?" Lily persisted. "I mean Ollivander can be a bit overbearing at times."

Harry took a single step forward and then another and another until he had opened the threshold to the wandmaker's shop.

"Damn your stupid pureblood traditions." Lily spat scornfully yet it held a tint of playfulness. She had always thought that there was too much tradition regarding the Old Ways as Charlus, her father-in-law, had often referred to it as though she had since grown accustomed to it. However, this particular tradition was what set her on edge or rather seemed stupid in her honest opinion.

James shrugged at her remark with a smirk on his lips. "It's always been like this. A wand is a direct reflection of the person's aptitudes, strengths and weaknesses." It sounded like the old prankster was reciting a lecture verbatim. "It's a private thing. I mean you still don't know what the core of my wand is and I don't even know what the wood of your wand is."

She acquiesced. When Harry asked and James subsequently informed her it was almost taboo for others to know the makings of another's wand, she had looked over a book of wand lore; the tradition in particular. She quickly realized that she didn't know all that much about any other people's wands if she knew anything at all and that it was an extremely personal matter.

Only on few occasions does the nature of one's wand get apparently revealed for others in magical society.

In an official capacity by an Unspeakable if someone was on trial or imprisoned or if the person had passed on where the make up of their wand would be transcribed as if it were some sort of writ or holy passage.

There was one other time where it was during some sort of ancient tournament but it had since been discontinued for reasons she didn't bother learning or researching about but she had briefly skimmed over it. Something about a weighing ceremony with the other competitors to level the playing field so to speak if she remembered correctly.

She was shaken from her thoughts when Ollivander opened the door and the two adults were able to catch a glimpse of young Hadrian being visibly uncomfortable with all the poking and prodding from a levitating meter stick and a tape measure. Lily and James quickly thought the worse though they both hid their concern rather well. "Is there something wrong?"

"No, not at all! Lord and Lady Potter!" Both the adults internally cringed at the title. Even after three years they had yet to still get used to the titles. Though Ollivander who didn't notice and whose thoughtful face quickly morphed into one of excitement. "I believe me and your eldest may have quite the day ahead of us. I came out here to inform you that it may be a little bit before the young Mr. Potter is fitted with the wand that chooses him."

James thoughts morphed into ones of even more perturbed concern as did Lily. Though the former hot-headed Gryffindor was the first one to voice them. "Are we talking about a week? A month? A year?"

The aged and ancient wandmaker chuckled and shook his head. "No, no Lord Potter. I do not believe so long." His eyes flicked upwards and squinted at the afternoon sun and bobbed his head from side to side as he contemplated a time frame. "An hour, maybe two at the most."

There was a visible deflation of stress from the couple as the sighed in relief. They shared a look. "Maybe we can get some shopping done? I don't think Harry would mind us going." James tentatively suggested while glancing at his wife who looked conflicted at whether they should stay and support their eldest son or run a few errands.

Eventually, she nodded at James request and they left together and had all but forgotten Ollivander's presence who was watching the two like a hawk would scrutinize its prey until they turned the corner and out of his sight.

The ancient wandmaker turned on his heel and faced his shop and in one fluid motion opened the door flipped the _Open _Sign to _Closed_ and shut the door.

But not without first peeking through the beige blinder as if wary of any would be spies.

* * *

_September 1__st__, 1989_

"Hadrian Potter!" The weathered Scottish voice announced from the raised dais at the front of the famed great hall of Hogwarts. The hall went silent as the grave as, Hadrian noted, watched _him_ go and sit on the wooden stool.

Harry had always wondered about the ancient Sorting Hat. It didn't make sense that it would divide _children _into houses based on attributes or traits a person had. What if they developed out of them during their time here at Hogwarts?

Maybe the Sorting Hat had some sort of scrying abilities or rather enchantments?

It would make sense. Perhaps it wasn't selecting houses based on traits rather it selecting based on where to cultivate strength? Or maybe it selected it based on your weakness to cultivate your lackluster attributes? A combination of the two?

He mentally shrugged, he probably wouldn't ever know, but he didn't particularly care either.

Harry thought the Sorting Ceremony to be a rather dull, unneeded and outdated affair. It would be much more simple to separate just by year and by male and female. His own methodology seemed much more efficient at the very least. Still though his attention turned towards the wooden pedestal and the tattered and worn leather hat that sat upon it.

He felt the ancient hide hat weigh down his head. _"Ah, A Potter. Haven't had one of you in a while." _The hat's voice, in his head that is, sounded raspy and ancient but held a bit of snark in it as well.

"_Well shall we?" _Harry _felt _the hat run through his mind and memory. _"Hufflepuff is definitely out." _If he didn't know better he could've sworn that he heard a distinct tone of disappointment. _"Ah yes, all you Potters are anything but Hufflepuff._"

That explained the disappointment.

"_Hmm. Most curious." _The hat remarked. _"Gryffindor is out. I wouldn't call it courage. More like…"_ There was a distinct pause. _"Desperation. Yes, desperation is the most apt term. So Ravenclaw or Slytherin. That is the dilemma. You don't lack intelligence, ambition nor cunning." _Hadrian could _feel _a smirk from the malformed hat. _"And that is where the two houses differ. Cunning." _It seemed the hat had made a decision. Though for some reason it didn't say Slytherin.

"_Even with all my enchantments, Mr. Potter, I cannot deduce something. It as if it is there but it is not. I would compare it to a mirror. A direct reflection for young aspirants. Yet there seems to be a shadow or spectre…something lingering in you that stay at the edges of my senses. It doesn't seem malignant nor benevolent seemingly…neutral. Most interesting. Hmm. I believe you and I will have to talk again in the future." _The hat spoke before it announced in an ancient booming voice his house for the next seven years.

"Slytherin!"

Silence greeted him as he stood up other than polite applause and congratulations from his new housemates. As soon as he sat down, however, the mumblings began in earnest. He was, after all, the last one to be sorted.

Harry noted that the other snakes did not partake in the whisperings. Instead they either ate in silence or the only six first-years sorted into the house conversed amongst themselves or rather spoke quietly to each other while Hadrian ignored them in favor of eating his fill. He would later learn their names to be Peregrine Derrick and Lucian Bole both brutish but also intelligent. Adrian Pucey who seemed to be a normal and decent enough friend to have. While the two others would be girls by the names of Amelia Durand, a half-blood who would later proven to be a good friend, soft-spoken just like him and just as intelligent and Daphne Greengrass with an icy and aloof persona that seemed to easily mesh in with his own sociopathic tendencies.

After dinner Hadrian and the other five were quickly escorted to the Slytherin common room, in the dungeons.

Snape wasn't kidding when he shared that fact to Harry on the rare occasion he did visit the Potter household, usually at the insistence of both Dumbledore and Lily. Even then the reclusive man hung onto the walls like a bat and left the moment he was given an opportunity to do so.

"Slytherin. Your home for the next years of your life." Snape announced. The two prefects flanking him on either side both the girl and boy seemed to look like they would like to be anywhere but there. "Whatever happens within these walls, stays within these walls. Whatever squabbles or differences you have with each other, you settle them here. Outside of these walls, we are united, we stand together."

Adrian, Amelia and Daphne nodded their acknowledgement at that while Lucian and Peregrine both looked at each and shrugging. Hadrian was the only one to seemed to be indifferent at the declaration if the lack of any reaction was to go by. Judging by what the others were discussing over their dinner, he was older than all of them by a solid year and it sort of showed when with their wide-eyed expressions of magic. Even the aloof Greengrass heiress, although he attributed it to the fact that an eleven year old would have a hard time concealing any emotion, was impressed by the magic displayed thus far.

"The girls dorms are on the left while the boys are on the right. They are both spelled to never allow one of the opposite gender to either side. So do not try as the consequences from both myself and the Headmaster will be dire." That went without saying and the threats left hanging left them all in silence.

"Since you are in Slytherin, you represent the house as a whole. There will be zero tolerance in laziness and poor marks. There will be zero tolerance towards malicious or degrading behavior. Do I make myself clear?" They all nodded their heads fervently at that given the seriousness in his words. Even Hadrian gave a minute nod to the man even though he felt it unneeded. Who in their right minds would want poor marks?

"You will receive your timetables at the Great Hall tomorrow at breakfast. That is all from me. Good night." And with a billowing and dramatic sweep of his robes, he left without another word. The prefect took his place.

"You will all have your own rooms. It will be up to you to bring it up to your preference. Remember, in Slytherin everything costs. Should you want help with something, the older years are more than willing to help. For a price, that is. Be it money or favors. Note that Professor Snape's and school rules still stands."

It went without saying that the prefects would escort them to breakfast the next morning. At that they were all escorted to their own rooms, where Hadrian wasted no time in falling asleep.

* * *

Hadrian's first two years of Hogwarts passed by in a relative breeze.

He didn't dally nor laze about and immersed himself in his assigned studies as well as personal ones. Often times, he would lose track of time during these sessions and would be reminded by Isabelle or Daphne not to forget meals. Though Harry suspected it was at the insistence of Snape that they be the ones to tell him.

He figured they could care less if he did eat or not. It had only happened a couple of times to be fair and he had readily discarded that habit of forgetting to eat and mentally slapped himself the last time it happened. How did one even forget to eat anyways?

The holidays to him they meant nothing. Merely another day in the long year. The only holiday, if he could even call it that, was Halloween or rather Samhain for the more traditional among the populace, rather than participate in the festivities in the Great Hall, he would rather wander the halls. It didn't sit right with him celebrating the occasion when the only significance it had to him was the death of his grandparents, and he only had fond memories of them.

The apparent desertion of Hogwarts at Christmas allowed Hadrian to explore and further drown himself in his studies. Like most years during the winter time and his birthday, he received books. Sirius bestowed upon him multiple volumes from the Black personal library that offered a fountain of knowledge in battle magic, something that, in all honesty, he could care less for but the knowledge offered within gave an insight on the lengths a wizard could and would go to, to see his or her opponent dead.

Plus it didn't hurt to add more and more spells to his repertoire. He had already spotted some rather deadly and destructive elemental spells and took to trying to master them as soon as possible.

His mother had given him one of her journals of potions in his first year that had been a literal godsend. While not terrible at the subject, he did struggle with the concept of following laid out rules where it was imperative to be on the line and not even a step over nor under could be taken, otherwise a volatile mixture would spell disaster. The journal taught him basics and other shortcuts that could be taken to achieve a desired affect which greatly appealed to his creative and cunning mind. Hadrian figured his letter to her saying that he struggled in Potions had some merit after all.

The next two years he received a Charms journal from her and given that she was currently in the forefront of said field right behind or maybe even surpassing Professor Flitwick, he soaked up the spells and notes as if it was water and him a man stranded in the desert.

James gave him flying lessons for his birthdays. He didn't necessarily like the fact that his lessons always seemed to assume that he would be playing Quidditch though he humored the man enough to try out and was apparently skilled enough to get a Chaser position. James always looked pale when he received news from the grapevine whenever Slytherin beat Gryffindor in the most inane way. Outscoring a caught snitch. It wasn't a love of quidditch rather a love of flying. The exhilaration from being so high up and moving fast enough that everything but a focal point seemed like a blur was an awesome feeling that he never tired of. He couldn't care less for the sport, it merely offered the opportunity to fly without repercussion.

Remus, really the only other person that got him gifts and always sent a book on Runes. The subject he absolutely loved and was inherently good at. He always soaked up whatever information was inside and had immediately asked if he could sit in on Professor Babbling's classes when he could. The subject seemed the most flexible in terms of usage and his personal studies always seemed to shift in that direction.

Upon returning home, James, Lily and Charles would pick him up. It was a rather simple affair, nothing grandiose nor intruding. Likely, due to the fact that they were trying to remain as anonymous as possible. Charles, being the Boy-Who-Lived, drew a lot of publicity whenever the family was out and about in the Wizarding World.

There was a sort of animosity though between him and his father's more zealous friends like the Weasleys or the Abbots or even sometimes the Longbottoms whenever they came over. They just couldn't get past that he was in the House of Salazar Slytherin.

It was funny, to Harry at least, when he was told their views on Slytherin and, almost always, the answer would stray to future Dark Lords or Ladies. They were right for the most part. You couldn't be brave and stupidly courageous to be a Dark Lord, no one has ever heard of those. You couldn't be humble and loyal to be a Dark Lord or otherwise be taken advantage of. One had to have an ambition that eclipsed all others. Be studious to foster that ambition to make it a reality, be cunning, charismatic and capable of crossing lines should the need the arise.

That was what it took to be a Dark Lord. And all these people of modern times have perverted the title to something evil and taboo. Voldemort and Grindelwald being the most damaging. Those two were just plain arseholes.

Hadrian fully believed that had Merlin existed in this time, he would be viewed as the epitome of what a Dark Lord was. No one talked about the lengths at which the greatest wizard of all time used to hide wizarding and magical kind from the mundanes. No one talked about the rituals and sacrifices, he made to ensure their very _safety._

His personal mantra paralleled the modern idea of classifying magic and his thoughts often reflected it.

In Hadrian's mind, no magic should've had a label like those of today. There is no Good nor Evil. No Light nor Dark. There is only power, and those too weak to seek it.

_**I have yet to decide on what to do with The Alpha Wolf. To be quite honest I was quite turned off by the Game of Thrones genre with the release of Season 8. Terrible and rushed decision making ruined an already wounded TV show that used to be great. For now I will put it on a temporary hiatus as I decide what to do with it. Right now, discontinuing it seemed the best course of action.**_

_**Other than that I hope you all enjoy this new iteration of A Will To Live. I believe my extended hiatus has merited me additional free time!**_

_**Until Next Time!**_


	2. II - Secrets

It wasn't often when Hadrian had hit a sort of roadblock. Typically, it came in the form of spell casting or a temporary halt to his personal studies. This wasn't either though. His casting hadn't diminished quite the contrary. Rather it had taken a sort of focus in elemental magics and runic magic. Harry thought he was doing rather well in both regards. He had even ordered a set of books that delved even deeper into both subjects as a whole.

His own personal studies into well basically anything that took his fancy at the time progressed and right now he was even studying into runic traps and its history, not that there was much details about that particular subset of spells or rather runic schemes.

His road block had come in the form of his brother's eleventh birthday. Whereas Hadrian's had been a small and quiet affair between the two parents and their eldest obtaining his wand. Charles' own birthday was, for all intents and purposes, completely opposite.

Where his own trip to Diagon Alley was a pleasant affair of monotony and quietness, Charles' own was crowded and suffocating. It also marked the time that the Potters would be coming out of supposed hiding.

Supposed hiding because it was an open secret as to where they were located.

He attempted to follow the crowd that had formed around the Potters. Well, lazily attempted. He would rather not be shepherded around or shoved about by gangly Weasleys. Having to attend classes alongside the more…eccentric of the red-haired clan was already a chore in and of itself.

Besides, he needed to make more purchases and being able to simply phase out of the group easily without being noticed had its merits as he took full advantage of the opportunity presented by the Weasley Twins who had turned the hair of their youngest brother, Ron, a pure white. The ensuing chaos gave an opening to Hadrian who slipped easily from the cluster and out of the way to do his own shopping.

First, though a stop at Gringotts. While the cluster had since moved from the Goblin-run bank, he didn't withdraw anything since he had repeatedly assured his parents that he was just there to tag-along. Even then his accompaniment was sort of forced by his mother who did not like the idea of him being alone for any longer than necessary.

Still it was easy to evade her supervision when the crowd was further enlarged when the Longbottoms, Abbotts and Bones joined their group.

He entered Gringotts purposefully, being mindful of his steps. Given that it was the day before the Hogwarts departure and the seemingly incompetence of wizarding families to plan ahead the bank was filled with both tellers and patrons.

Well, it probably had to do with the stupid and inefficient system of Hogwarts mailing system. Culture-shock as well as many other factors made the prospect of entering the Alley a daunting venture.

He mentally shrugged as he strode off towards the Account Managers section where the older families with larger accounts and holdings didn't have to wait as long for a meeting. Maybe it was simply human nature to procrastinate? He certainly didn't see the appeal of doing so. It was better for him to deal with an issue as soon as possible be it homework or any other innocuous task really. Otherwise it nagged or annoyed him to no end.

_Hmm. That was probably why I get asked about assignments by my classmates. _That certainly merited a few questions to Adrian or perhaps Isabelle or Daphne. He mulled over his thoughts as he rapped on the polished ornate door and entered quietly when he heard the rasping command from the goblin within.

"Ah, Young Master Hadrian." The goblin, with thin metal rimmed bifocals and a gouging scar across his left eye and continuing onward along his old and weathered face, inclined his head ever so slightly to the young wizard whilst still scratching away at paperwork on his desk. "I had met with your parents earlier today. I did not see you with them." The implication was there. Why was he there on his own?

"I wish to make a withdrawal." The young wizard stammered the last word. He may have met the Potter Account Manager, Ripclaw, on numerous occasions but there was something about the ancient goblin that unnerved him.

And it wasn't like him to be nervous or otherwise caught flatfooted by something. It was like the goblin could see into him as the beady slits that were the stunted race's eyes focused on him. Like Ripclaw was judging his worth constantly.

"And would this withdrawal be from your trust vault?"

"No. From the…other vault." Hadrian hesitated. He was initially against the idea of having a separate account under Ripclaw, whose lineage had managed the Potter vaults since their inception. But he needed a trusted adviser for his finances and he could think of none since he didn't associate with other goblin tellers or managers.

"I see. One moment please while I finish this report." The room delved into a comfortable silence as Harry's thoughts turned to the creation of his own vault.

His _other vault _was actually his winnings from a dueling circuit during his second year under the patronage of Professor Flitwick's Clan of Gringott. He had approached the Ravenclaw Head of House during his first year about a week after Halloween and asked the dueling champion if he could provide simple instruction on basic dueling technique and etiquette nothing major.

While the Charms Master had always rejected requests of apprenticeship, the eldest Potter son had left quite the impression on Flitwick. It was Hadrian's assumption that being level-headed was chief amongst the reasons why the Charms Master had agreed in the first place as the eldest Potter son made it explicitly clear he did not want to be a burden and was there to learn and not play.

And thus began a weekly intense tutoring sessions almost every Thursday morning since that was the Professor's designated grading day. Hadrian had found out that the half-goblin dueling champion had always graded their assignments the day he got them and thus he used the excuse of the having a dedicated marking period as a break form the monotony of Hogwarts.

Those sessions culminated into the Dueling for Under 18 Tournament the Christmas of Hadrian's second year at Hogwarts. Where, after much discussion, Hadrian would enter under the alias of Adrian Evans and a glamour of an average student that was under the patronage of Clan Gringott. Hadrian would win his age bracket almost flawlessly, only suffering a single loss in the third round robin and received the reward of twenty five thousand galleons.

Most of the prize money had went to the Flitwick and Clan Gringott as without the Charms Professor's tutelage and the Clan's patronage, he wouldn't have made it that far and left him with five thousand galleons. The Gringott Clan had put forward an offer for the eldest Potter son that if he competed again they would support such an endeavor as since it was his first year on the circuit it would most likely mean only good things. And good things for the bank only meant easy gold.

It wasn't that hard of a decision to agree.

The only difficulty that arose was where to put his money. His trust vault had a set limit and could only be accessed if he had authorization from one of his parents, who watched the spending of their sons' like hawks and received any and all updates concerning the status of the vaults.

And thus the nature of his other vault. Not necessarily a secret per se. More like, as Hadrian put it, an omission of knowledge. What his parents didn't know wouldn't hurt them and unless directly asked Ripclaw would deny any knowledge of such a vault.

The perks of being a sponsored duelist of the bank.

It also helped that Ripclaw had taken the initiative and began to use the gold in wise investitures and already the profits of such business ventures were already beginning to show as the goblin himself took six percent of such earnings.

Hadrian was still a Potter and thus Ripclaw was able to use the young wizard's money to increase the vault's holdings as his job so inclined him to do.

His musings were snapped back to the present when said goblin etched and stamped with a flourish the report and set it aside. Hadrian was in no rush after all. He estimated what? An hour? Two? Maybe three, four at the most until the tour of the Alley and the gathering of school supplies had ended by his family. Hadrian had actually gotten his supplies the first of July, the day all enrolled students received their timetables and list of needed school supplies and luckily the Alley was relatively empty that day.

"So," Ripclaw began as he turned his full attention to the Potter Heir and pulled the tome that was the beginnings of the account. "How much would you like to withdraw?"

Harry's eyes scrunched as he quickly confirmed the math on what he was intending to purchase. It was only second as he nodded to himself. "Three hundred galleons should hold me over."

Ripclaw nodded and retrieved the filled out the tome page quickly. "Your balance would stand at six thousand and fourteen galleons and thirteen sickles."

Hadrian nodded already knowing the amount before hand.

"Very well." Ripclaw had pressed his gnarled thumb onto a rune and a much younger goblin came scurrying in. The Potter Account Manager barked something in their Goblin tongue and ten minutes later Hadrian was walking out the bank three hundred galleons heavier.

The elder Potter son maneuvered through and around the throngs of people in the Alley and entered the rather…darker area of the famed wizarding destination.

Knockturn Alley was more up his style. He just didn't understand why most people thought the place to be haven for the dregs of society. Well, in some ways, it was. More Aurors and personnel from the Magical Law Enforcement Department patrolled the brighter side and most if not all of the dregs did not want any interaction with that particular department.

Other than that, Knockturn held a wealth of knowledge many of it classified as '_Dark_' under the Ministry but Hadrian didn't care.

And it showed when he strode into the Alley and one of its many _dregs_ had nodded absentmindedly to him in acknowledgment. Hadrian returned it slightly and made his way towards Borgin and Burkes. The few loitering wizards or witches paid him no mind either as he entered the shop. They didn't care who wandered the place unless you stirred up trouble or looked completely lost.

Then they just took advantage of you.

"Ah young Heir Potter." The shopkeeper greeted with a contortion of his face, seemingly having trouble on deciding whether to frown or smile slightly. The man Burke, if Hadrian remembered correctly, was average if a bit decrepit wizard. Brown hair with combed over with a thick layer of gel it looked like and a mousy, if a bit dim, grey eyes. He had a hunched and slightly slouched frame but muscled frame, the kind one would expect from someone who would move heavy stuff consistently. He wore a brown dusty apron but if his mundane underclothing was any indication than he was more comfortable in the non-magical formal attire rather than the magical robes. "I had not expected you so soon after your last visit."

Say what one would about Knockturn Alley, in a weird sense of irony, they tended to apply the smaller and more practical aspects of their more ordinary counterparts than those in Diagon Alley. That wasn't to say that bigots and other undesirables that would frequent Knockturn would rather the place be more of a _respectable place_ where they conducted business because they did but they wouldn't alienate those that held in their possession more magical artefacts, illegal or otherwise, than just about anywhere else in Magical Britain.

"Mr. Burke." The man inclined his head ever so slightly though his face settled on a slight frown. "I was wondering if my order came in."

"Indeed it has. One moment." The man disappeared into the back of his counter and Hadrian took his time to take in his surroundings. The withered skeletal hand was still there sitting atop a dusty counter along with other artefacts as they remained untouched. A section entirely dedicated to books and tomes sat in the corner of the shop where hundreds of the ancient texts sat. None had piqued his interest other than the few that he had so recently acquired.

Burke came out of the back with a bundle of five books wrapped in a tan wrapping parchment and strung together in a thick string and set them on the counter. "I must say that these were not easy to get a hold of."

"But you still did." Hadrian simply said as he approached the parcel. "That has to count for something."

"It wasn't that they were hard to obtain per se. Hard to locate would be the more apt phrase. They were rather specific tomes you were searching for after all." Burke remarked as he jotted down the expenditure in his own charter book and rung the young man up on his register. "That comes out to a hundred and seventy five galleons."

Thirty five galleons a book wasn't that bad considering the contents and since he managed to procure the whole set, Harry was not about to attempt to talk the man down from his hefty price. Hadrian counted each and every one of the gold coins as he laid them out on the counter in increments of seven.

Twenty five stacks of gold coins later the shopkeeper pushed forward the parcel towards Hadrian who could already feel the ancient magic within reaching out to him. He disregarded the thoughts though. Now was not the time.

Flicking out his wand of what looked to be pale wood from his wrist holster, Harry shrunk the package down so that it could fit in the palm of his hand with a single tap and slipped it into his pocket. "A pleasure doing business with you, Heir Potter." The sincere statement was negated by the slight frown on the man's face.

"As always." Hadrian's own a mask of both iciness though not quite hostile. Hadrian spun on his heel and left Knockturn as quickly as he entered it. The whole affair taking no less than hour from his initial escape from his brother's rambunctious entourage to acquiring his five books.

Checking the simple clockwork watch on his wrist, it was half past noon. If he remembered correctly this was the time most people enjoyed their lunch. He knew that his own brother wanted to go to Fortescue's around this time and so in a bid to avoid the pandemic that were crowds, he maneuvered to Ollivander's.

Hadrian still had to meet with the ancient wizard every year it seemed.

He was lucky when he discovered no one else was in the shop and entered with a _ding _announcing his presence.

"Hadrian Potter." The elderly man greeted as his sharp stormy eyes locked onto his own piercing emerald ones.

"Mr. Ollivander." Hadrian respond in kind. "I am here for the yearly check."

"So it would seem." The ancient wizard said as he spared a glance to the outside of his shop and with a flick of his wrist the beige shutters fell down to obscure the outside and those within. "How are your wands faring?"

"Normally." Hadrian didn't know how else to answer. "They feel the same as always."

"I see." The ancient wizard maneuvered around his counter and in front of the wandmaker. "If you would be so inclined?" He outstretched his hand and Hadrian produced both wands to both his hands. The pale one and a black one and handed them carefully to Ollivander.

The older man maneuvered back to his counter and set the black one carefully, almost reverently, onto the counter and began examining the pale one. With a swish and flick nothing happened and the elder man frowned before doing the same with the black one with the same results.

"While it is quite common for wands to only obey their chosen. As a wandmaker, they should respond to me. Interesting." Hadrian said nothing in response. Ollivander had always made that comment in some form or another. Apparently they never worked for anyone else. Wouldn't manifest magic for anyone else rather.

Ollivander had believed them to be defunct and only his pride or rather his beliefs prevented him from snapping the wands in the first place and for the past seven hundred years had sat collecting dust in his shop or home. Even their original creator had been lost to the annals of history.

He examined the wands once again before handing them back to Hadrian with a slight scowl on his face, one that seemed misplaced on the wandmaker's face for those that have known him for a long time.

It became quite the common occurrence whenever Hadrian entered the shop of the ancient wandmaker.

"Have you any theories Mr. Potter?" The frown that was present didn't diminish in the slightest. Harry guessed it hurt the man's pride as a wandmaker to be consulting others regarding his very life's work. To Hadrian it seemed childish to have to be shamed or a hurt ego if you asked for help but he could see where the man was coming from.

And the elder Potter son did have theories regarding the nature of his wands.

Though he didn't have such an inclination to share them. They were very far-fetched and raised more questions than they answered even if they seemed the most plausible considering the circumstances.

Hadrian shook his head in the negative. "My guess is as good as yours."

"Hmm." Mr. Ollivander seemed to have his doubts regarding Hadrian's truthfulness but disregarded them as with a flick of his wrist the beige shutters opened.

Hadrian frowned his brother and the entourage had apparently been waiting outside.

A moment later the group entered the small shop making the already cluttered space even more suffocating to Harry. Looks like young Charles wanted everyone to know what kind of wand he had.

Not that Hadrian gave it much thought. That particular tradition had been mostly done away with due to the increasing number of mundaneborns and half-bloods. While most purebloods still practiced the tradition, they also shared it family members they were close with. In truth, Hadrian _was_ planning on telling his parents the make-up of his own wand. But hen he got saddled with two and not even Ollivander would tell him what the cores were nor even the wood type, saying '_that all would be revealed in time._'

An ancient and creepy man, in Harry's honest opinion. He didn't understand how people held him in such high regard if he only spoke in the vaguest of terms or phrases. It was much better to be direct, as there was no point except to waste time when beating around the bush so to speak.

"Hadrian! We were wondering where you had run off to!" Lily exclaimed though the frown on her face had morphed _after_ her surprise upon noticing him. She, as well as James, had done a double take of their eldest on how he had gotten there.

They must've still thought Harry was with the group. He shrugged as best he could whilst still butting elbows with Fred. He knew it was this particular twin do to the small almost completely faded scar the red haired prankster had on the edge of his brow from an errant piece of debris that struck him in a prank gone wrong.

George had no such mark but the pitch of his voice was deeper, if only slightly, than that of his twin. Most would say they sounded the same but Hadrian's observations were that of a hawk and he noticed just about everything of note around him or at least he thought he did.

"Ah the younger Mr. Potter." Ollivander greeted with a genial smile. His eyes flicked to the back of his shop where the stacks upon stacks of wands were held before returning the Charles himself who looked at the famed Wandmaker with wide eyes of excitement.

Hadrian watched as the tape measure that all but molested him the first time seemed more reserved and incremental in the measurements. He noted Ronald, Neville Longbottom, Susan Bones and Hannah Abbot watch his brother with equal looks of curiosity patiently awaiting their turn.

Throughout it all, he kept his hands in his pockets securing the shrinked parcels of books and gold hidden there. Safe from tampering from the two other third-years in the room along with them. While the twins had delved away from petty thievery that was all too commonplace in their early years, as their magical knowledge expanded their creativity for setting timed pranks on possessions of others was quickly becoming a menace at Hogwarts.

It wasn't until the twins had left, muttering and more like conspiring with each other about their plans on the train did Hadrian lift his hands.

Still that was only about ten minutes when Charles had finally got matched with his wand. His slightly auburn almost brown hair, flared upwards to show for all the lightning bolt scar on his forehead as an ethereal glow materialized upon grasping the brown polished wand. "Marvelous…" Ollivander gasped and nodded more as an acknowledgement to himself, Harry assumed. "Holly, with a phoenix feather core. Adept at transfigurations and charms. I expect great things from you Mr. Potter. Great things."

_Hmm. _Maybe wand-lore was something to look more into? It certainly would give him better insight into his own wands, perhaps even allow him to find out their makeups. If Ollivander's reaction to his brother's wand was any indication maybe they were able to provide a sort of prophetic meaning as well? Hadrian shrugged minutely. It was definitely something to learn more about if for only his sake as Ollivander hadn't said as much when he received his own wands.

Hadrian watched his brother hold his wand in reverence and Harry frowned as the youngest Weasley boy butted forward. While he may be lacking in the empathy department, it was common courtesy to let the girls go first. Just about any boy should know that. Though some adults shook their heads at the antics of the younger boy, perhaps it could be overlooked as childish negligence after all, everyone was a product of their upbringing and the Weasleys were notoriously to evade proper social conventions.

The elder Potter son watched on as he thought more on this. Maybe he was an outlier in that regard. Lily and James weren't logical minds. He would rephrase that in that Lily would allow her emotions to get the better of her more clinical side while James was more creative and confrontational in his antics. Charles was certainly a combination of the two, though lacked the clinical and confrontational aspects of both parents.

Harry's train of thought was broken when Charles stood uncomfortably close to him, putting his wand to his elder brother's face to show him. "Look Harry! I finally got my wand!"

"I see." Hadrian's face formed a tight smile and took a step backwards. Charles still lacked the thoughts of personal space as most children did.

"It's got a phoenix feather as a core! Do you think that it came from Fawkes?"

Harry doubted it. For all their rarity, their phoenix feathers seemed rather easy to come by and Ollivander probably had contacts given his renown and credibility as a wandmaker, to guarantee him a steady albeit minimal supply of the material. "No, I don't think so." Hadrian had after all gone through four wands that had a phoenix feather, according to the famed wandmaker and five feathers willfully or otherwise given by a single fire bird was rather unlikely.

Charles frowned at the denial. Maybe he was told that it was and was attempting to confirm it? If so why would he go to him? He didn't know a thing about wands much less about his brother's recently acquired one. "I still think it came from Fawkes. It feels like him."

Hadrian shrugged, magical signatures? It seemed absurd but it held some logic. He didn't think of it further instead leaning into the wall as Charles and Ronald quickly took each others attention and conversing about their wands while Hannah and Susan received their own. Apparently, Neville already had his, having it be the first stop of the Longbottoms.

At the insistence of his grandmother no doubt. The elder woman was a stickler for tradition. She may not be the quintessential Pureblood but her roots were as strong as they were thick and wouldn't yield on having some modicum of secrecy of her grandson's wand makeup. Hadrian had met her once at a family gathering. The Longbottom Matriarch was someone who dressed like a dour clown but held a passion that wouldn't be tempered.

Luckily for Hadrian, the group exited the suffocating and crowded shop and made their way to Fortescue's. Unluckily for Hadrian, James and Lily, primarily his mother, kept a close eye on him. Probably making sure he didn't give them the slip once again.

He felt wholly uncomfortable and out of place.

He watched the group dig into sundaes and ice cream cones while he sipped on a lemonade slowly and deliberately. Ron was making more of a mess than actually eating the ice cream.

Hadrian sighed, tomorrow couldn't come sooner.

* * *

The train ride was uneventful. Though it was particular crowded. He was joined in the compartment by Isabelle, Daphne and her sister Astoria. He had forgotten that the Greengrass heiress had a little sister.

It was like looking at a mirror image but where Daphne had a blonde almost platinum hair color, her sister was the opposite in that she had hair as dark as the void.

"So how was your summer?" Isabelle asked, she didn't seem different from all the other years maybe an inch taller, if that and her face a little brighter. Though she had her black hair in a ponytail when she usually had it in waving curls that framed her face.

"Dull." Was Hadrian's simple answer. He didn't even look up from his book, already knowing that the two would be waiting for more elaboration on his part. "I finished my assignments in the first week."

"Really?" Daphne stated from her seated position next to her sister, who also was reading a book though from the faded cover it was difficult to make out the title. "It took me a month to finish mine."

Isabelle looked to her other friend. "Transfiguration was never your strongest subject." While both Daphne and Isabelle were bright witches they held a competitiveness for the number two spot of their year.

It was kind of hard to even begin to close the gap between them and Hadrian to begin with as he was sitting in on the classes of Ancient Runes already and if rumor was to be believed than he was already working on his OWLs for that class.

The less said about his own headway into the sixth years curriculum the better. They may be studious but even the Ravenclaws in their year couldn't keep up with him and were putting quite a few upper years to shame with his advancement ahead of them.

The two continued to converse while both Hadrian and Astoria quietly read to themselves.

That was until a certain blonde ponce and his two friends decided to grace them with his presence.

In hindsight, Hadrian shouldn't have been as disappointed as he had been. Draco Malfoy had none of his father's intuition, ruthlessness nor cunning and Hadrian expecting a semblance of intelligence was probably giving the kid too much credit.

Hadrian continued his book. If he crossed any lines or began grating his nerves then he would do something about it. Daphne would handle this. From what he could gather from her vague statements or rather explanations, there was some sort of meetings going on between Derrick Greengrass and Lucious Malfoy. If Hadrian had to guess, marriage contracts were involved somehow but for the life of him, he couldn't figure out why the Malfoy Lord would want to associate with the Greengrass family.

They weren't a particularly powerful family. They did hold some political influence but not enough to be a deciding factor in any regard. They weren't a family that practiced Pureblood traditions as much as the older families did. While their business ventures in apothecaries around Great Britain were nothing to scoff at, the Malfoy Patriarch didn't need money.

Status maybe?

No….maybe the man was planning something in the Wizengamont and needed to pull a couple more strings rather than the standard ones? It was certainly something to look into if that was the case. As to warrant a contract would only serve as to solidify a position.

Harry barely heard his name being called until Isabelle who was seated directly across from gently kicked his foot.

"What?" It wasn't said with malice, more with a tone of indifference as he looked up. Maybe he should've been paying more attention? She slightly gestured her head towards the Malfoy Heir and his two friends behind him.

"Potter!" The blonde haired boy said, puffing his chest in what could only be construed as an attempt to be intimidating rather than looking like he had blown out his back. The two in the back behind him palmed their fists. His attention focused on Draco though.

Hadrian cocked his head to the side much like an innocent puppy would in curiosity or perhaps in puzzlement. "Yes?" That was his name. Why would he be calling it though? He certainly wanted nothing to do with the kid and according to James, they were supposed to enemies.

"What are you doing here?!" His face scrunched up and the three girls in the compartment were having trouble on who or what to focus on. The two behind him looked lost from here on out and settled on a scrunching up their faces.

Wasn't it obvious? He was sitting and enjoying his book in silence. "Uh, reading." He raised the tome in his hands as evidence.

"Well? Leave and take your…friend with you. I will keep the Greengrass sisters company." He sneered at the elder Potter boy and Isabelle. For an eleven year old he was surprisingly well-spoken, no doubt tutelage from Narcissa Malfoy, he would give Draco that even if he was being an insulting bigot.

"Okay?" Harry said simply whilst closing the book and setting it to his side as he regarded the blonde boy with a blank look. What the hell was he supposed to say? "I wasn't aware that Greengrass nor her sister wanted you to accompany them."

"Well they do!"

Hadrian doubted that. Daphne's upturned nose and Astoria's barely disguised look of disgust only reinforced his suspicions.

"If they did they would've asked me to leave and since they have yet to do so. I am inclined to sit right here and to continue reading." Hadrian crossed his legs and noticed that the three girls were fingering their wands with a hidden glance.

They wouldn't need them. While Hadrian had no doubt that the Malfoy heir knew spells taught either from Narcissa or more likely Lucius, it wouldn't devolve into that.

His eyes widened when the Malfoy heir whipped out his wand and pointed it at Hadrian while the two other boys behind him did the same. _Okay._

Maybe he was wrong. "Leave." Draco did his best to sneer out the word. Why was this kid so insistent? He would have to find out as well, adding to his growing mental list of tasks he had made. This menial kid had only become a nuisance to him now and interrupted time better spent studying.

It was probably time to get rid of their presence.

"Stu-" Draco began shouting but with a single flick of Hadrian's wrist and the three wands were sailing down the hall, over the train noise the clatter could barely be heard. Suddenly, Draco looked fearful as Hadrian slowly stood up, a pale white wand in his hand pointed at them.

This was one of those rare occasions where Hadrian showed any semblance of emotion as his face devolved into an glare of narrowed poisonous green eyes that could freeze fire and with a growl, that made even the buffoons that were standing behind the Malfoy Heir gain fearful looks, Hadrian spoke in a low threatening tone. _"Leave." _

They scampered off…in the opposite direction of their wands.

Idiots.

Hadrian's face morphed back to one that lacked any emotion as he closed the compartment door and drew down the blinder. Turning on his heel, he sat back down next to his book, opened it, leaned on the window and continued reading as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

He missed the gaping look from Astoria and the small smiles on Daphne and Isabelle.

* * *

_Why are they staring at me? _It made him feel wholly uncomfortable and it was at times like these did he damn his awareness and sometimes lack thereof. If the incident on the train had any witnesses than that was the more likely reason otherwise they should've focused on the sorting that was about to take place.

"Hey Belle. Why is everybody looking at me?" He whispered to his friend on his left.

Her glare was leveled on some poor soul though she relented long enough to answer. "Maybe because of what happened on the train." Her glare turned on someone else.

Daphne gave a stiff nod from his right as her glare leveled on a couple of the Ravenclaw girls on the table beside them.

Harry accepted the explanation. Though he didn't have to like it. He was used to flying under their notice, suddenly being the center of attention didn't sit well with him.

He absentmindedly politely clapped along with every sortee. Harry elected to ignore the stares. There wasn't much he could do in that regard so his attention turned to the head table where two new additions sat.

More like what seemed like an addition and a promotion also.

He hadn't known she was to be the Muggle Studies Professor but seeing Lily chatting quietly with Snape was certainly a surprise. Quirrell had apparently taken over Defense.

Hadrian nodded his head a bit at that. While Quirrell wasn't particularly powerful, as the man had issues with anxiety, even then the man was a master at silent spell casting and quite knowledgeable. If anything, Defense would be kicked up a notch. The man though right now looked to be a bit jumpy.

A shrug and Hadrian gazed about, many of those staring quickly averting their eyes as he met them.

"Astoria Greengrass." The hat was set on top the younger Greengrass' head as she sat down on the stool. It seemed the hat had taken a few moments of deliberation before concluding that the younger girl was to be placed in the House of Snakes. The table rang with the slightly louder applause. One that was still polite but held more energy to it, the only one reserved for those sorted in to Slytherin. The younger girl smiled brightly and before he knew it she was sat next to her sister.

Hadrian liked that about his house. While being sorted was apparently a grandiose ceremony, he saw no reason in being overly loud in their cheering as the Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors did. Ravenclaw, sometimes, cheered but it was a rarity and it seemed to only occur when they didn't receive a new house member after several sorts.

A few more sorts and then the Malfoy heir was called up. The hat wasn't even on before it shouted 'Slytherin'.

Was it Hadrian's imagination or was the polite clapping more subdued than usual?

After a few more students were sorted in which Ravenclaw got two, Hufflepuff got three, Gryffindor received one new lion and Slytherin got two new snakes in the form of a Theodore Nott and Pansy Parkinson.

Then the moment that apparently the entire Great Hall was waiting for. "Charles Potter!" Was the shout from McGonagall. The stern highland woman's eyes flicked to him for brief second in apparent fear as she cleared her throat and Charles strode towards the stool. Many in the Hall glanced his way. Even the teachers couldn't help themselves as they did so as well.

Hadrian wondered if they thought that the Savior of the Wizarding World would end up in the house that was notorious for producing Dark Lords or Ladies.

It would certainly be a cruel joke.

Though Hadrian, even though they rarely interacted if at all, knew his younger brother well enough to know that he would end up in Gryffindor. He simply could not see him fitting in anywhere else, maybe Hufflepuff.

But then he remembered that Potters had never been in Hufflepuff.

His thoughts were only confirmed when the Sorting Hat announced in a booming ancient, if a bit disappointed, voice, "Gryffindor."

The House of the Lions erupted in a cheer that Hadrian, cringed slightly at.

Could the Weasley Twins be any louder in their chanting?

And where the hell did they get that banner?

It was a bit bright and an eyesore.

The Hall wouldn't calm down for another two minutes and by then Dumbledore had to let off a loud _Bang _with his wand to calm the rambunctious house.

The stares returned to him and Hadrian scowled slightly in response.

The sorting continued though none got the same response as Charles had.

Hadrian thought that this year's sorting was noticeably longer than past years as this round there was a high number of seventy eight students, Hadrian's year had maybe a third of that. He attributed it to the war. Families would be too scared to raise children during those times.

Still Harry shrugged it was mere statistical thing and human nature. Times of strife bred times of prosperity and he had no doubt that the coming years would be even larger in population.

Dumbledore better get to hiring more staff, was Harry's parting thought on the matter.

His attention turned towards the Headmaster who gave a warning to everyone about the third floor and Harry wanted to palm his face. Why would someone tell a bunch of school children about something that could be fatally dangerous? That was just asking for someone to go check it out.

He spied his brother with an excited glint in his eyes and he wasn't the only one. Many of those around him had that same mischievous looks on their faces. Even those around Hadrian seemed to be contemplating the merits of discovering what could warrant such a warning.

Hell even he wanted to go check it out and he valued self-preservation above all else. The third year Slytherin gave it two weeks before someone got injured because of it. He wanted to know just for the sake of just seeing what was the dangerous thing.

But he digressed. His instincts and curiosity warred with each other as he ate silently yet quickly.

Hadrian _really_ wanted to know what was being kept secret.

* * *

Dumbledore smiled genially at the student populous as he observed his warning take root in the young Charles Potter. His plan had gone off without a hitch though he may have to ward the room a bit better and develop a few actual countermeasures to prevent the other curious children from attempting to sate such curiosity.

The headmaster's thoughts drifted over the exact details of such measures. Though paused at the elder Potter stoically eating his meal.

Dumbledore watched as the elder Potter's eyes flick to and fro observing everything as he ate silently, only nodding along with whatever Ms. Durand was saying or whatever the older Ms. Greengrass was saying.

_Hmm. _He thought of the merits of such a relationships. The Durand family was a relatively new one though was still beholden to pureblood traditions. There was the uncle of the young Ms. Durand who had been a particularly ruthless enforcer among Voldemort's forces and had on numerous occasions stricken many of the Aurors with fear with reputation alone. It wouldn't do for the elder Potter scion to associate with such people though maybe Ms. Durand could be saved.

While Albus was a champion of mercy, those such as Bellatrix Lestrange, Barty Crouch Jr., and Crassus Durand were lost to the Dark. Even he realized that they were beyond saving.

A relationship with Ms. Greengrass was more palatable to the older man. Derrick was a notable neutral party in the Wizengamont and his family was also neutral in the war and had remained so throughout its entirety even when Voldemort was on the cusp of victory.

Though his musings were for naught. Something was off about young Hadrian. His unattachment and lack of empathy were particularly concerning. On numerous occasions, he had referred to his parents and many other that were extremely close to the family by their given names or were otherwise extremely formal with them. It unsettled the elder wizard to no end.

Young Hadrian had even referred to himself as Albus or Dumbledore whenever he had visited the Potter household and on the rarity that he had met with him in school had only addressed him as Headmaster.

There was no warmth to be found in Hadrian's eyes. Nor was their an iciness. Only a sliver of aloofness, if that.

Such detachment made the Headmaster sick as memories of a younger Tom flooded to him. The younger Tom was much the same before the true darkness had set in and became Voldemort.

Perhaps it was time to keep begin keeping a closer eye on the Potter Heir. It wouldn't do for the world to get another Dark Lord much less two.

If needs be, then he would take steps to ensure the brother of the Boy-Who-Lived would not be a threat.

It was, after all, for the _Greater Good._


End file.
